


friday i'm in love

by robmit



Category: Dynasty (TV 2017)
Genre: Alcohol, Culhane Trending On Twitter, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Sort of? - Freeform, a very minor reference to kirby but she's in there, fallon trending on twitter, fallon's long existential soliloquys, in a minor way, like VERY implied like i use the word "relations", ridiculous situations involving anders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27896644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robmit/pseuds/robmit
Summary: Fallon and Culhane have had yet another argument. This time, it stings more, and they're both trying to find some way to make it work again, despite absolutely ridiculous circumstances on both sides.Told in 5 days! I seriously don't know what I was doing with this but I adore writing these two and there's really really not enough works for them on here, so have this. It was originally just going to be one chapter but I think the narrative would benefit from a bit of a break so... this will be updated soon, I hope!
Relationships: Fallon Carrington/Michael Culhane
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	friday i'm in love

MONDAY  
“Culhane?” 

Michael opened his eyes, still only half awake. The front door creaked open oh-so-suddenly and there was a familiar click-clack of expensive high-heeled shoes on his living room floor. He sat up and stared Fallon down, frustration evident in his eyes. This was going to be a conversation that he had neither the energy nor the answers for.

“...Are you going to answer me? Someone’s tired.” 

“Yeah, I am. 3 AM arguments tend to have that effect.” He reached over to his dresser, attempting to find a shirt to throw on. There was none, which was annoying- not that Fallon hadn’t seen him shirtless hundreds of times before, but he wanted to approach this particular moment with professionalism. “Are we really going to do this right now?”

She sat down on the edge of his bed- a strange place for a serious discussion, but this wasn’t uncommon- and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this, but I AM willing to make this work… or at least to try.”

“And what exactly do you consider trying? Is it hooking up with your coworker behind my back? Or maybe it’s telling everyone in your life that we’re not together, nor have we ever been, when your actions towards me tell a different story.” 

“James was going through a ROUGH TIME, okay? And I don’t remember us ever deciding we were official.”

“Yeah, I know that. But… I thought it was implied. And, by the way, James is a self-centred jerk.” Culhane slumped over once again, letting his gaze fall from his sort-of-almost-girlfriend. “Not unlike you, in fact.” He regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but it’s not like he was wrong.

“Jesus Christ, I came here to apologize to you, not to be insulted.” 

Culhane shrugged, letting his frustration with the situation take over. He would love to believe that Fallon had good intent, but she had proven one too many times that she didn’t take him seriously. “I’m sure you did, but I’m not obliged to accept just any apology. Besides, maybe we should both just take a little bit of time for ourselves. I don’t see this relationship doing either of us any good at the moment.”

Fallon, ever the lady, rolled her eyes and gave him a look that implied that she would rather jump into a pit full of scorpions than consider what she had just said. However, to her credit, she got up and walked out of his house without another word. That made things easier.

The day ebbed and flowed as usual, with Culhane driving Blake to some mysterious appointment downtown and then picking up some files for Cristal that had been left at the office. He hardly gave another thought to his exchange with Fallon. Work was good for that, especially what he did for a living. You get used to tact and keeping things down when you work for people who display the exact opposite behaviours, and although it’s not ideal, it comes in handy sometimes. However, that particular ruse tended to fall apart whenever he got a moment to himself, and try as he might, that was exactly what happened when he got home. 

As he scrolled through Instagram, attempting to stall the inevitable wandering of his brain back to Fallon mode, he was suddenly aware that there was music floating in through the windows over from the manor (Blake had refused to soundproof the stables, and Culhane had much higher priorities). It was some kitschy pop single, the type that Fallon would always- oh, there it was. HER again, taking up all the space in his mind. And the music was probably hers too- she was probably just having some people over, but he couldn’t help taking this as a personal attack. Usually, he’d be right there beside her at whatever party this was, their hands occasionally brushing together as they made fun of the other guests and tuned the Spotify playlist to perfection. They’d leave the party together even though it was taking place at the manor, both tipsy and laughing at each other’s bad jokes, and would spend the rest of the night having long conversations about any and everything. Of course, both of them would find some bone to pick with the other and by the morning they wouldn’t be speaking, but there would be those few hours where they existed in sync. 

There was a sudden pang within his soul and without thinking he got up, still wearing his pajamas, and opened the front door. Now he could hear the music more clearly, and the lights bouncing off buildings and trees cast a strange glow on the ground. It felt odd to be on the outside of all of this. He pulled out his phone and started swiping through people’s Instagram stories, watching his peers on endless nights out and nights in. He was at the age where almost everyone he knew still had Instagram, although they all used it in slightly different ways and their grasp on different aspects of it varied wildly. Fallon, for example, had just posted a story of the party- more accurately, a story of herself wearing a ridiculously beautiful red dress AT the party, and had captioned it Werk. In Comic Sans. 

Sometimes you see a picture of Fallon Carrington so beautiful that it overrides the decision-making part of your brain. Every complaint you have with her suddenly goes out the window and you are suddenly willing to forgive the Comic Sans and the infidelity and the irresponsibility and the questionable lack of maturity and…. Wow, the list goes on, but it doesn’t matter. It was a dress that he had many memories of, some of which cannot be described in this narrative or else I would have to increase the age rating significantly, but rest assured that they existed and they crept into his mind all at once. 

He closed the app and let himself breathe for a second, then opened Twitter. It is rarely ever a wise decision to open Twitter, but perhaps this was an exception.

TUESDAY

“Good morning, Ms. Carrington. Culhane is, er, “trending” on Twittener.” 

“...You mean Twitter?” Fallon sipped at her coffee calmly for a few seconds before realizing that that was by FAR the least weird part of Anders’ statement. “Wait… CULHANE?”

Anders gave a curt nod and refilled her cup of coffee. “I wish I could tell you more, but to be honest, I don’t quite understand it myself.” 

“...Twitter, or Culhane trending on it?” 

“Both, but mostly the second. My daughter uses Twittener- she posts these humorous images that I do not recall the name of at the moment.” 

Fallon was almost entirely sure that he was talking about memes, but she didn’t feel like explaining the little she knew about meme culture to a senior citizen, and besides, there were more pressing matters at hand. Opening Twitter, she typed in Culhane’s handle (yes, she knew it by heart- so WHAT?) and drummed her fingers anxiously on the screen as it loaded. PLEASE, she thought, don’t let it be about me. 

It wasn’t about her- not directly- but it might as well have been an arrow right to the heart, because Culhane had posted selfies. And- she knew this well but it still hit her hard every time- he was VERY good at taking pictures of himself. Cloaked in the soft neon glow of faraway lights, standing at the edge of his doorway. His one arm was raised, touching the top of the doorframe, and his head was tilted so that he gazed at the camera with a kind of approachable confidence. He was not wearing a shirt, of course.

“He’s… not wearing a shirt, that is for sure,” Anders pointed out helpfully as he peered over Fallon’s shoulder. 

“...Yeah.” Fallon was a mix of angry and confused and incredibly, incredibly enamoured. Also, why did he never send her selfies that looked like this? Also, why on earth did this tweet have 100 000 likes? 

“Anders, could you go get me another cup of coffee?” 

“Of course.” He gave Fallon’s phone one last confused glance and walked out, her coffee cup in hand. 

She was flabbergasted, to say the least. This was not the first time Culhane had gone viral- the Internet likes good-looking people- but there was something so SINISTER about him suddenly going off on his own while they were on a break and being so… pretty. That was supposed to be HER thing. 

And, despite what Culhane believed, she HAD been trying to make their relationship work, and there was still a part of her that believed there was a distinct possibility they could make it work. Well, relationship was a strong word.

It was so hard for her to contextualize parts of her life as anything other than a competition. Blake and Alexis both had made sure of that, pitting her against her brother and the kids against the parents and the parents against each other for the entirety of her childhood, not to mention the stuffy private schools she had gone to and their incredible ability to make kids feel like they were only worth something if they were winning. That ended up being how she approached love: she had to have everything and everyone available to her and keep them all on her side. It was an impossible goal and yet she was rocked with pain every time she failed to live up to it.

And Culhane was so… good? Normal in the best possible way. She saw almost nothing of herself in him, which was confusing but also a relief. He made his way through life with no special privileges, no stepping stones that got him further than other people, and yet he had plenty of friends and people who wanted to be around him. Even Twitter agreed. How was he expected to put up with her and her bizarre concoction of life problems and privileges and not get tired of it? 

He saw something in you at one point, she said to herself. Even if it was just on the outside. 

Speaking of the outside, if he was going to go viral for being beautiful, then two could play at that game. “Anders,” she called, “could you ask Culhane to drive me to the office?”

Anders stepped into the room and regarded her curiously. “I was under the assumption that you two weren’t on speaking terms.” 

“Oh, we’re not.” 

TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Fallon typed away on her keyboard while aforementioned coworker James adjusted a ring light in front of her. He kept staring at her and then looking away suddenly, as if he had discovered a new and rare bug in his basement that he didn’t want to scare off. Setting the camera up atop the light, he clicked a few buttons and then got to work at adjusting the lenses.

“You look beautiful today, by the way.”

She scoffed. Ever since their little, um… run-in, James had been acting as if they were an old married couple. “...Thanks, can you take the picture?” 

“Okay, just act natural. Your eyes are stunning in that suit, by the way.”

“Mmhmm. I’ve got a meeting at two, okay?” She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes and once again focused on her computer screen. Ever since her business with Jeff had collapsed, she had been in the process of finding new investors, which wasn’t that easy at the moment, as he had sort of soured her reputation in the working world. Her new coworker, James, was a recent arrival to Atlanta from some tiny town in Ireland, and he seemed more interested in having, er, relations, with Fallon than he was with any business. 

It was incredibly frustrating and demeaning. He did have a cool accent, though. 

The camera flashed and she didn’t even look up, typing furiously away at the spreadsheets before her. “Okay, thanks James. Do you think you could upload that to your computer and send it to me by noon? And- you didn’t email me back yesterday to confirm that the calculations for last quarter’s spreadsheet were correct?” There was a spiteful and commanding edge to her tone, like a teacher talking to a particularly awful student.

James, of course, ignored the subtext of the situation entirely, and opted to sit down in the chair directly across from Fallon. “I’m sorry, dear, it’s just-”

“What on earth compelled you to call me that?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about how we-”

“Look.” She swiveled around in her chair and turned to face him again, which would have been more intimidating if she hadn’t already been facing him in the first place, but sometimes you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do. “I have no idea what the imaginary relationship between us looks like in your head, but it’s nothing like what’s happening in real life. We’re business partners, and if you want to continue doing business with me, I’d advise that you smarten up.”

The next part came out without any thought behind it, some Culhane-inspired Freudian slip that she would regret seconds after the words left her mouth. “Besides, I have someone in my life right now, and I almost ruined that for you. It’s not going to happen again.” 

“...Is it Jeff?”

Ohhhh, my god, this man was lacking in the common sense department. “I really shouldn’t dignify that with a response, but no, Jeff is my COUSIN. You know what? I think I’m going to work from home today. Email me the calculations as soon as possible and call me if- actually, don’t call me.”

James, suitably taken aback, nodded.

SLIGHTLY LATER ON TUESDAY AFTERNOON

Fallon stood in front of her office, phone in hand, dialing Culhane’s number while getting absolutely drenched with rain. The drive to the office had been relatively uneventful- they were used to not speaking to each other- and although she had a feeling that the drive back home would be slightly more difficult, it wasn’t like she had any other options.

“Fallon? I’m just parked around the corner.”

“The CORNER? It’s raining more than it’s ever rained in this city today and you’re parked around the CORNER?”

“...........I’ll drive up. One moment.”

She hung up and crossed her arms over her chest, shivering in the awful weather. One of the great plagues upon businesspeople is that almost every single article of clothing they ever wear is completely impractical when it rains. Atlanta is privy to decent weather the majority of the time, but that just makes the bad days creep up on you like a spider slowly descending from your bedroom ceiling. 

The familiar vroom-vroom-vroom of Culhane’s car pulling up was a welcome sound, although she didn’t want to talk to him. He rolled down the window as he came to a stop. “I’ve got a jacket in the car- feel free to throw it on.”

“Oh, wow, uh..” She left the statement there, bewildered but grateful, and sat down in the car. Culhane didn’t usually like anyone wearing his jackets. She pulled it on over her head and was immediately hit with a smell that her brain registered first as “home”, then “laying my head on Culhane’s shoulder after a long day”, and finally “am I so into this ridiculous man that wearing his jacket does this to me?”. She pulled it around her, still shivering, thankful that his eyes were focused on the road and not his passenger clinging onto a jacket of his, allowing the sleeves to drape over her hands. 

An unusual exhaustion settled over her on the ride home. She knew that there were countless things to finish before the work day was over, but every part of her wanted to take a nice bath and go to bed. As they pulled into the driveway of the manor, she rested her hands on the windowsill and stared up at the raindrops falling down, down, down, down, the familiar pattern allowing her mind to get away from the man sitting next to her.

She opened the door and got out- quite ungraciously, as the ground was slippery and it’s weirdly difficult to coordinate oneself in high heels- and uttered a quick “thank you” to Culhane.

“We’re still on a break, you know?” he called back. It was quite unnecessary, as she knew that more than anything else right now.

However, being on a break meant that they had been something of substance before that, and implied that they could be something of substance once the break ended. This was a comforting thought.


End file.
